


Spin Me Right Round

by Stark_Black



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, First Time, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stark_Black/pseuds/Stark_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji and Zoro come home from one of those crazy high school parties and have drunk conversation all over Sanji's couch. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spin Me Right Round

**Author's Note:**

> For bishdreams on Livejournal. Thank you so much for your donation! <3

He still had an arm around Sanji’s waist as they tumbled through the doorway. The house was dark and it was a miracle they made it up the stairs and into the living room without killing themselves.

Zoro’s head spun. Not like the way one’s head spins after riding those stupid teacups that Chopper always insists on riding every time the fair is in town. No, the spinning was more like what would happen if one were to get hit by a truck, or drink their own weight in liquor.

Oh, wait, that was what they had just done. The drinking part, not the truck part.

Sanji cracked his knee on the coffee table and cursed, but it was quickly followed by a laugh soaked in booze and nicotine.

“Shit… shit that hurt.”

Zoro found the edge of the couch with his hands and crawled over the armrest to lay face down on the cushions. “Where’s y’r dad?” he asked.

“Night shif’t,” Zoro watched Sanji’s silhouette move clumsily about the living room as he spoke. “He’s doin’ some prep… prep on some… something. Won’t be back ‘till tomorrow ‘noon… afternoon or some shit.”

Whatever the blond was searching for, he didn’t find it on the shelves and he started going through the drawers in the desk against the wall. “…Goddamnit… moth’rffuck…”

“What the hell ‘r you doing?” Zoro asked, his voice muffled by the cushions.

“Cigs,” Sanji replied.

It might have only been a few minutes or it could have been hours, it really made no difference to Zoro, but finally Sanji half slid half fell to the floor at the foot of the couch and the flame of a lighter flickered in the dark for a moment.

“You really gonna smoke in here?” Zoro asked. “Won’t you get ‘n trouble?”

Sanji shook his head. “Naw, ol’ man smokes in here too. He duzzn’t give a shit.”

“Hn,” Zoro grunted and watched the tips of Sanji’s lips as he took a drag. The cherry glowed bright, illuminating the sharp angles of his pale features, contrasting them starkly against the parts of him shrouded in shadow.

The whole thing was eerie, strange. Zoro had ever really been alone with Sanji before. The setting threw the swordsman a little. The darkness and the silence were unsettling but intimate. Exciting. Sexy.

Carefully, so that the room didn’t tilt and dump him out of the house and into the street, Zoro rolled to his back and placed an arm behind his head. He rested the other on his chest, letting his palm trace over the scar starting to harden across his skin.

“Izzat what you wanna do?” Zoro asked suddenly. “After high school I mean?”

“What?” Sanji didn’t look at him.

“Cook, like y’r dad?”

Sanji nodded. “I never thought about doin’ anything else.” He leaned back against the couch. The swordsman could smell his shampoo over the haze of smoke.

Zoro couldn’t pull his eyes away from Sanji’s profile. There was definitely something wrong with him. He thought about this guy a little too much, and it wasn’t even in an “I hate this dude, he’s so fucking annoying” way anymore. Now it was mostly “wow, Sanji looks really good in those pants” or “damn, Sanji’s smile is killer” or “stop licking frosting off your fingers and come over here and lick my cock, damnit”.

“What’r you gonna do?” Sanji asked quietly, interrupting Zoro’s thoughts.

Zoro blinked and reached out to take the cigarette from between the cook’s fingers. He brought it to his lips and made a motion that was some kind of hybrid of a shrug and a neck spasm. “Don’no. I don’t like anything but _kenjutsu_. I’ll prolly jus’ apply for teaching at some studio downtown ‘er something. They got a _kensyobudo_ school ‘bout an hour from here. Might be fun.”

Slipping the cigarette between his lips, Zoro inhaled, pulling the smoke into his lungs. It burned and tasted exactly like what he thought it might: shit. He managed to blow it out and not cough up his esophagus, but only barely.

“Fuck, take it back,” he held the cigarette out and Sanji took it with a grin.

“So, y’ aren’t gonna do that school Freakshow was talkin’ about?”

Don’t call him a freakshow, Freakshow,” Zoro grumbled, “Hawk’ss th’ shit.”

“Yeah,” Sanji murmured as he took another drag, “sliced you from hip to shoulder to prove a point that duzzn’t even make sense. Thassa real cool dude.”

Zoro watched Sanji’s jaw clench and unclench and felt just the tiniest swell of excitement. Sanji almost sounded bitter. He almost sounded like he was angry at Hawk for what he had done. The muscles in the cook’s neck flexed, his shoulders tensed. He was rough with the cigarette as he finished off the last bit and snuffed it out in the ashtray on the coffee table. Zoro’s pulse quickened when he saw Sanji’s breathing was heavier than it was a minute ago.

“You’re hot when you’re angry.”

Woa, oops.

Sanji didn’t look at him, but he did react. His breathing halted. He swallowed slowly. His lips parted and his voice escaped in a whisper.

“…’m fuckin’ drunk, Zoro…”

Zoro shrugged again, or at least tried to. “So? So am I.”

Sanji shook his head, still wouldn’t look at him.

“S’not fair.”

“Whas not fair?” Zoro asked.

Taking both his hands, Sanji ran them over his face. He turned farther away and pulled his legs up. He rested his arms straight out across his knees, clasping his fingers together. He hid his face between his elbows and sighed.

“Iss just… funny for you. You don’ get it, man. You don’t… get it. It sucks to be me ‘n how I feel ‘n you’re just goin’ along bein’ you and it fuckin’ sucks. I don’t… wanna be like this…”

Zoro’s stomach fluttered and it didn’t have anything to do with how much alcohol was in it.

“…thought you hated me…”

Sanji laughed into his arms. “No, that par’s true. I still hate you. I juss’ wanna hate you while I put my dick in your mouth.”

“You wanna?”

Zoro had to bite the inside of his lips to keep himself from laughing when Sanji turned wide eyes on him.

“Do I wanna… what?”

“Put y’r dick in my mouth.”

Even in the dark, Zoro could see Sanji’s cheeks flush. He raised a hand and ran it through his blond hair, movements unsure and nervous. “I-I mean, if… wait, really?”

Rolling to his side, Zoro reached an arm down and wrapped it around Sanji’s waist. The cook came easily, considering he was probably under a buck twenty-five, but he also didn’t struggle—which was a good thing because they were both too damn drunk to get anything to work smoothly. After much fumbling and possibly a knee in a crotch or two, Sanji let Zoro pull him up on the couch and position him so he was laying half on and half off of Zoro’s body.

Running a few fingers through Sanji’s hair, Zoro smiled at the face the cook was making.

“A’ course, I could always put my dick in y’ur mouth if that would make you feel better or more comf’tble or whatever.”

Sanji’s eyes didn’t meet his, however the cook’s lips did turn up in a small smile. The blond’s thin arms wrapped around his own slender torso as he studied Zoro’s neck intently. His face was red, and his long eyelashes danced across his cheeks when he blinked.

“I…” Sanji murmured softly, “I don’t wanna talk about suckin’ each other’s dicks when I never even kiss’d you or… held hands or anyth’ng…”

The room spun again and Zoro felt like he was going with it. In a good way.

“You wanna kiss me, cook?”

“Yeah.”

“Then do it.”

Sanji’s eyes snapped up to look into his, but then they went right back to staring at Zoro’s collar bone. His face went scarlet.

Zoro chuckled. “Wass wrong? You never kissed anybody before?”

“’Course I kissed someone before, ‘m ssev’nteen asshole.” Sanji shifted uncomfortably and his hair fell into both his eyes. “I jus’… never kissed anyone I really liked…”

Zoro reached out and slid an arm over the cook’s hip. He pulled that thin body closer and ran his hand over the curve of Sanji’s lower back.

“Thass really cute what you jus’ said,” Zoro whispered. “Y’ should say more cute stuff like that a lot more.”

Sanji let out a shaky breath and Zoro wasn’t sure if it was a sigh or a laugh.

“’m not cute, don’ ssay ‘m cute I can’t—”

Zoro leaned in and pressed his lips against Sanji’s. It was nothing at first, just two sets of lips mashed together. But then the cook’s brain seemed to register what was happening and he responded. It was sloppy at first, awkward, but instinct quickly took over and they found a rhythm. Sanji’s hand slid up into Zoro’s hair and he pulled himself closer. He managed to get himself completely on top of Zoro’s body, legs on either side of the swordsman’s hips. Zoro had no complaints and started running his hands all over Sanji’s ass. He splayed his fingers and squeezed defined muscle until the cook made a nice sound against his mouth.

He didn’t expect it, not in a million years, but those were definitely Sanji’s hands on his belt, definitely his sexy fingers running over his zipper. Fuck did he have sexy fingers. No really, watching the guy cook was like a porno.

“Holy shit…” he breathed as Sanji’s palm rubbed at him through his jeans. “Are we… really doin’ this? Or am I like… dreaming… again?”

Sanji moved to Zoro’s neck and kissed the skin below his jaw. Shivers cascaded down the swordsman’s spine and he arched. He gripped the cook’s ass harder and ground their bodies together. Sanji growled low and bit at Zoro’s neck. They both shuddered and Zoro felt the room tilting again, his head spun faster.

“Wow…” Sanji’s voice was breathless above him, “Zoro ‘m so drunk… what—what d’you want me to do?”

Feeling the pressure coiling in his loins, Zoro pulled Sanji against him again. He ground their bodies together easily, roughly.

“Jusst… don’t stop…”

Sanji’s face was blurry in the dark, but Zoro could see his eyes. He could see the cook’s mouth turn up in a drunken smirk. He felt the muscles in those powerful hips flex just before the cook ground down on him with such force that Zoro might have seen stars. He groaned out loud, pressure mounting to its peak.

“Mmmm, like that?” Sanji breathed.

“Yeah.”

Sanji did it again and Zoro was gone. He came with a soft grunt and another tight squeeze of his hands on Sanji’s ass. Tension released and pleasure mixed with the murky haze of drunkenness as Zoro felt Sanji shuddering and gasping over him.

Minutes passed. Or it could have been hours. Sanji fell asleep on Zoro’s chest, and the thought of moving him didn’t even cross Zoro’s mind.

* * *

In the morning, Sanji was sick. Very sick. Zoro helped him to the bathroom and then back to the couch. They lounged together and drank tea and watched tv for most of the morning. When Sanji’s dad came home they slipped into the bedroom and fell into Sanji’s bed. They slept together until evening, holding hands and thinking the hangover was worth it.

END


End file.
